Your Spelling Sucks
by ObscureEnough
Summary: Severus was nothing to look at, he had no charm or natural confidence to smooth his rough edges, so why was this happening?  Written for Severus *sighs* Anti-Valentines Day 2012 Ficathon. Slash.


**Pairing:** Severus/Lucius  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 889  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Hmm… Harry being an arse? Anti-Snarry? (Thanks, Selkie :D ) (Oh, and language.)  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> This is a work of fiction. The characters and their worlds belong to their original writers and no copyright infringement or offense is intended. No money was made from this story.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Severus was nothing to look at, he had no charm or natural confidence to smooth his rough edges, so why was this happening?  
><strong>AN:** Set during what would be Seventh Year/DH, but nothing inappropriate occurs. Again, with many thanks to Selkie for her very fine job as beta.

* * *

><p>Severus carefully considered the scene before him: four of his Seventh Year female students were gazing at him from their desks with expressions more at home on a cow, he decided. One, a Muggleborn girl as he recalled, had somehow managed to find some eyeliner to write 'kiss me' on her eyelids. <em>Someone<em> had been watching silly Muggle movies. All in all, it was both sickening and vastly disturbing, and it took all of his skills to continue the lesson as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening.

The scene was repeated over the day, with the older girls simpering and tittering any time they spent any amount of time in his presence. Thankfully, it appeared that whatever was happening was dulling the minds of his Slytherin students, otherwise he dreaded the thought of what one of _them_ might think up. As it was, he'd had to break up a fight between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin over who would be a better choice for him. He was very tempted to say that _neither_ of them were a good choice for him, not least because of their age. No need to mention their inappropriate gender.

The only humour to this impossible day had been the Gryffindor boys, specifically the males of the Golden Trio. Weasley had been horrified by the Granger girl's obvious infatuation with him, going so far as to physically drag her away from his soiling presence. Harry, however, appeared almost … jealous. He had gotten into a shouting match (or as much as was possible) with Luna, who had snipped that 'just because the Snurzles rowed one way didn't mean that the Fluffer-Guts did too.' What the hell she had meant by that, he didn't know, but it had inflamed Potter to the extent that he'd been about to throw some nasty hex at the girl. He had been stopped by Minerva, and hauled off for a sound talking to, but still…

He had to get to the bottom of this. 

He was still pondering the meaning of the sudden mass infatuation when there was a knock at his door. "Enter," he ordered absently.

Minerva entered his study, dragging an oddly defiant yet rapt Harry with her. "I believe we may have an explanation for the students' odd behaviour today," she scowled.

Severus focused in on the boy. "Potter," he growled, "what have you done?"

"It wasn't supposed to work like this," Harry whined.

"Really," Severus sneered, "and how _exactly_ was it supposed to work?"

Harry ducked his head, and mumbled something unintelligible.

"I beg your pardon," Severus uttered icily, "but I didn't get a word of that. Speak!"

"I cast a love spell," Harry admitted petulantly.

"And what, pray tell, does that have to do with me?" Severus demanded.

Harry again ducked his head and mumbled, causing Minerva to shake his arm. "It was for you," Harry pouted.

Severus blinked. He stared at the boy. "What?" he shouted. "Are you insane?"

"Draco let slip that you prefer men, and I thought it was finally my chance, and it's, it's, it's St Valentine's Day!" Harry ended with a self-righteous shout.

Severus closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. When he was finally able to speak without too much venom, he did so. "Draco's impending punishment aside, what the hell made you do that? In case you misheard, I prefer _men_, not little boys that are in my classes. You are my student, and even if I should, Merlin forbid, develop a desire for you, I could not do anything about it, because _you are a student_." He closed his eyes again, and sighed. "Get him out of my sight, Minerva, and make sure he fixes whatever the hell he did."

"Of course, Severus," Minerva nodded, and escorted Harry firmly out of the study.

Severus sank into his wooden chair.

"The boy has remarkably good taste," a smooth voice smirked.

Severus opened his eyes to scowl at the pale-haired man currently transfiguring his other chair into something usable. "Rubbish," he snorted.

"No, no," Lucius objected as he sat down. He considered the man before him. "You are not a vision by any stretch of the imagination, Severus; I would barely call you passable. You are vicious, and cruel, have a wickedly barbed tongue, and no social graces whatsoever." He smiled, and cocked his head. "You are unfailingly loyal to whom you've chosen, and have an amazing intellect, both of which transfix me. You are not a pretty person, but a mind like yours doesn't need that. You are, not to mince words, a bastard, but you're a damned talented bastard, and one I'm happy to have in my bed. I'm simply saying that young Harry simply has my own fastidious taste," he smirked.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Speaking of beds, it has been a horrendously long day in which I have been leered at by any number of simpering misses, and I feel the need to put that right: I need to be ravished."

Lucius raised an elegant eyebrow. "'Ravished'?" he repeated.

"Buggered, then," Severus corrected as he rose. He held out a hand. "Bugger me?"

Lucius heaved a gusty sigh. "Oh, very well." He wove his fingers with Severus' and drew him into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. "The things I do."


End file.
